


Harder

by PoetHrotsvitha



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Anal Sex, Established Relationship, F/M, Praise Kink, Prompt Fill, Safe Sane and Consensual, that's the whole fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2019-04-24 07:07:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14350440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoetHrotsvitha/pseuds/PoetHrotsvitha
Summary: Rey finally asks Ben to help her indulge in a long-held fantasy.





	Harder

**Author's Note:**

> [**I had a request**](https://thepoetdraws.tumblr.com/post/173038007165/as-a-thank-you-for-a-donation-to-my-my-tablet) to fill a @reylohardkinks prompt. 
> 
> (￣▽￣)ノ Check the tags before proceeding, please!

Jakku is a strange place to gain a sexual education. There are creatures of infinite varieties who seek pleasure and comfort with each other, both in and around the outpost, sometimes of a same species and sometimes not. Privacy is such a rare commodity— isolation is dangerous, after all, and shelter is coveted— that it’s generally considered optional. No transgressive act is so forbidden that it must be hidden from prying eyes.

Rey often catches glimpses of these couples in the dim light of the setting sun, just around the time that she kicks her speeder into gear and returns to her AT-AT. Each and every time, she wonders what it would be like to feel the touch of another so intimately.

She never goes so far as trying to find out, though. Far too risky.

This wonder only grows when as she gradually learns about the many, _many_ ways that humanoid species can couple, far beyond simply for the purpose of procreation. It must be very different from being alone, Rey thinks, no matter how she tries to replicate the feeling with her fingers while lying in her hammock late at night.

Some things feel more inherently wrong and illicit. Every now and then she finds herself pushing those boundaries, fingers straying lower and lower.  She suspects that the feeling would be amplified if another person were involved. To open herself up in every sense, to feel that stretch where it shouldn’t be… 

The idea makes her breath catch in her throat in longing.

 

* * *

 

It’s many years before she’s with someone and learns how pleasant that familiar and intimate touch can be. Because Ben does touch her- reverently, lovingly, with passion and a kindness that makes her cheeks grow warm. It’s strange at first, both of them shy and a little bit frightened from years and years of being alone. But curiosity drives them to learn quickly, and soon they’re stealing away as often as they can to his quarters or hers, bound together breathlessly over and over and over. Finding excuses to duck away from their Resistance comrades and be alone together. And it’s lovely.

But… She wants something more. Which is how Rey finds herself standing in front of him one evening, feeling as if her face is on fire.  

“I want you to, um,” she starts, stretching her mouth around the word that feels unfamiliar to say out loud. “Put your cock in, um.”

Ben’s eyes widen.

“My… Ass.”

His brows rise even higher.

This isn’t the reaction that she was hoping for. Trying to emphasise how serious she is, Rey closes her eyes and takes a shaky breath, fingers clenched in the fabric of her pants. “I… Please. I really, really, _really_ want you to fuck me there, I want to know what it feels like, I’ve always wondered, and I trust you and—”

Ben doesn’t let her say any more. The rest of it is lost when he cups her face and curves her neck back as far as it will go, giving her a sloppy and possessive kiss. His hands slide down, over her shoulders and past her waist until he reaches her behind and starts to knead, stretching and pulling the cheeks apart in a way that makes her heart beat faster. “I think,” he rumbles, “that can be arranged.”

 

* * *

 

Ben being _Ben_ , he decides that he wants to research it first. She daren’t ask exactly what sort of reading he’ll be doing to learn more about this, but she’s content to let him lead the way.  

The first time he has her on her front and slips his slickened thumb into her ass, Rey hiccoughs with surprise but immediately rocks harder back against him. _Yes_ , she says, _good_ , _yes_ , _more,_ in between incoherent whimpering and happy sounds.

Another time, he adds a second finger, and she likes that even better. She needs to consciously relax when he adds the third, and the eventual introduction of a toy into the mix has her whining for the real thing.  

“Patience, sweetheart,” he scolds her, “you need to learn how to relax so it doesn’t hurt.”

“Please,” is all she can manage, “please—”

“You’ll appreciate being worked up to it.” And with an infuriatingly, impossibly smug tone, Ben adds, “I’m much bigger than this toy anyway.”

She whimpers into the pillow. The thought only makes her wetter.

 

* * *

 

“I think you’re ready.”

Ben says the words from between her legs one evening, stubble brushing against her thighs, his dark hair soft against her stomach. Once she processes his meaning, Rey’s head bolts up off the pillow and she stares at him with wide eyes. “Really? You mean it?” He’s been working her up with his mouth for what feels like an age, keeping her begging and on the edge, and she’s so aroused that she almost feels dizzy with it. 

“Yup.” He motions for her to turn over as he stands, swiping the back of his hand across his mouth. “On your hands and knees.”

Rey jumps to get into position on the edge of the mattress, giving a little wiggle that earns a playful smack. Her giggles break off when he places his palms firmly against her ass and _oh,_ his hands feel so big, she feels so tightly wound from arousal and excitement and anxiety—

“Relax,” he soothes, bend over her to press a soft kiss to her shoulder blade. “You need to relax, sweetheart. Trust me.”

She does trust him. There’s been time for that trust to grow between them, and her being able to feel the hints of his devotion that trickle through the bond certainly doesn’t hurt. Taking a deep breath, Rey wills all of the muscles in her back and legs to go limp, leaving just enough strength to hold herself up on her knees.

There’s the soft spill of lubricant and one finger, now familiar, slips into her until it’s followed by two. It helps her to ease into the rhythm of it, letting her mind float away at the intimate push-pull. When he withdraws his fingers, she barely has time to tense before there’s the press of something much bigger, insistently working past the pucker until it’s forcing its way in.    

“Oh,” she gasps out, “ _oh_ ”, involuntarily clenching and feeling the muscles in her back bunch together, her body still confused with this new sensation. In a way it feels like a muscle cramping and uncramping, being stretched despite wanting to stay in place.

“Shhhh,” Ben breathes, freezing completely still, letting her get used to the intrusion. “It’s okay, sweetheart. We can stop if you need to.”

Rey rocks her head back and forth because it’s _more_ than okay— and she wants to tell him so, but she seems to have forgotten how to speak. But she does manage, at least, to relax as commanded. They repeat the process a few times, with him slowly pushing in further and further, as she pants and groans low in her throat. There are twinges of pain when she clamps down without meaning to, but it’s nothing she can’t handle. Gripping onto the sheets helps, as does taking deep breaths through her mouth. The feeling of _fullness_ grows and grows, satisfying a need that she’s had for as long as she can remember having sexual desires.

Each little moan or surprised noise from Ben makes her feel so powerful, so helpless, the perfect strange mix of rightness and wrongness that makes her whole body shake.   

Tears are squeezing out of her eyes by the time he’s fully seated, but it’s not from pain— she’s just _overwhelmed_ from so many years of daydreaming coming true. Through her tears she manages to babble out her thanks, words blurting in a stream that barely makes sense, “oh thank you thank you Ben thank you I’ve wanted this so bad and it feels so full and— and— oh _fuck_ I’ve imagined this for so long and thank you thank you _thank you_ —”

Ben seems to be having his own revelation behind her. “Fuck, sweetheart,” he says, voice strangled with effort, fingers so tight on her hips that she’s sure he’ll leave bruises. “You feel so fucking _tight_ , holy shit—”

He moves a little and Rey has to bite the pillow, taking in the strangeness and the weight of it, the rock of his body inside her and against her back. It doesn't hurt any more, the friction unfamiliar but wonderful, just what she imagined. 

When his hand slips around her front and he begins to knead clumsy fingers against her clit, the effect is immense, her body so primed and ready that any touch is maddening. Belatedly, she tunes into the fact that Ben is whispering something, the sound floating in the air and brushing against her back. “You’re being so good for me, “ he’s saying softly, “can you take a little more? I know you can. Being so good for me, Rey, so beautiful, so good. Such a good girl.”

There’s something about the combination of the sweet words and the filthy action, so powerful that Rey convulses in the grips of a first, shivery little orgasm against his fingers. It’s so slight that it’s like a bolt of static that makes her gasp, an enticing promise of what’s to come. She’s still moaning a combination of _yes yes yes thank you yes please yes_ , still crying, completely unable to feel shame at this stage.

That makes Ben lose a measure of control, his hips moving faster, the wet slapping sound filling the room. Each thud of impact makes her whimper happily, especially when his fingers grow more forceful against her clit. “I love being your first like this, sweetheart,” he rasps, his possessiveness licking at the corners of her consciousness, seeping through their bond. “That I’m the only one who’s ever seen you this way. That I’m your first in every way, for every hole, fuck, I’m so thankful that I am—”

“Yes, only you,” she gasps out, “only you, Ben, please, only ever you, just you—”

This time, his chuckle is pure sin. “Damn right.” And even though he’s starting to get a little breathless, he manages to keep his voice deep and suggestive when he murmurs, “I know every last inch of you, Rey. Can you imagine what people might think if they saw you like this, hero of the resistance and last hope of the Jedi, taking the barely-reformed Ben Solo’s cock up your ass? Most of them still don’t think they can trust me, what would they think of you split open on me like this? But here you are— willing and filthy. Just for me. All mine.”

That does it. The shame and arousal and heat all coil inwards for a heart-stopping moment and then burst in an explosive climax that makes her wail, every bit of her going tense down to her toes. It very nearly _hurts_ in its intensity, stars blinking behind her eyelids. It's what she wanted. It's everything she wanted, and he's given it to her. 

She’s still reeling from it when Ben finally lets go of his restraint. He relaxes in a way that she knows he’s wanted to since they started, speeding up his thrusts into her boneless body. Blinking almost sleepily, Rey rocks back against him until he lets out a long groan, followed by streams of garbled obscenities that could make a Hutt blush. There’s something oddly satisfying about the way his release seems to go on forever; she feels like she’s won a sort of victory. She can feel him pulsing inside her as he gasps and twitches, to the point where he half-laughs in disbelief at the final shudder.  

When he slips his spent cock out of her at long last, Rey eases down onto her front on wobbly arms, collapsing with a surprised _oof_. Ben follows in moments, flopping his weight down beside her with a winded sound. Once she’s caught her breath enough to think, she rolls her neck to look at him. “Thank you,” she whispers, face tacky with tears, salt-sweat covering her body, the sticky slick of come still oozing out of her bottom. She’s never felt more exhausted or more fulfilled as Ben cuddles her close, brimming right to the tips of her toes with a sleepy and aching contentment. “Thank you— that was perfect,” she mumbles. “Jus’ perfect. Love you.”

Ben just holds her even tighter, resting his head against her shoulder. His lips press against her neck, her cheek, leaving fluttery and delicate brands against her skin. “ _You’re_ perfect. Love you more.”

The words can be said so easily between them now, and they both appreciate the magnitude of that.

Rey doesn’t want to move, so she doesn’t. She can lie there in soft happiness, sexually sated, a little bit sore, and emotionally replete. She belongs there, feeling safe and warm— and, admittedly, slightly sticky— knowing that she never needs to leave his side. He knows her, in every sense, as she knows him.

There is no greater gift.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> LET ME HAVE MY OVERLY SENTIMENTAL ENDINGS 
> 
> And anyway then they went off and had lots of clean-up and aftercare and a thoughtful discussion about how you can never use enough lube in anal and how non-fictional couples should use condoms to avoid the risk of STIs.


End file.
